Underdog Supremacist
by Ten-Faced
Summary: When being scouted, the job description given to him was that he would be forever hated by his own people or tortured to death. It was the worst sales pitch he had ever heard in his life, but he took the job of being a spy anyways. AU where Velderoth is actually a spy for the Nova.
1. Towards the world we desire

"This is a golden opportunity for us," the woman told him. A slight breeze ran through her straight-cut hair, but the strands all fell back into place uniformly after the draft past her and brought to his nose the sharp scent of sweet herbs she wore.

"How?" Velderoth asked the tactician who had introduced herself as Edea earlier on after the bag over his head had been removed. Now that everything about their situation had been explained to him, his head was filled with new knowledge that wouldn't settle properly in his mind. Rather, learning about the larger forces at play in the present made him think that the present was anything but a golden opportunity. "We barely managed to get out of it alive. If it weren't for Cartalion coming in at the last moment with the reserve forces, we _wouldn't_ have made it out alive. Magnus is just too strong for us to take down at the moment."

"Magnus," Edea said coolly, "is but a mortal and all mortals must eventually fall."

He tried to not fidget under her hard, unwavering gaze and only partially succeeded. ". . . why am I here?" There had to be a reason why an ordinary knight like him was being told secrets that hadn't been heard or whispered in Pantheon for years. A reason for why he of all people had been kidnapped from his bed in the middle of the night to be secretly brought to a sanctuary heavily spelled to prevent any attempts at espionage or eavesdropping.

"Because I believe that you'll be one of our key players."

Velderoth snorted at that, and felt a bit of the tension decrease. "You're kidding."

"I am not."

"No, the person you want is Kyle – the Kaiser. He's the Protector of the Nova, the one who'll -" _the one who'll solve all the problems, the one who'll be best, the one who'll always be better than me._ But he didn't finish his sentence because of the large lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. It wasn't like him to be jealous of his friends. No, he was happy for Kyle.

Edea shook her head, the edges of her silver hair swinging back and forth like a pendulum. "I need a man with a motive, Velderoth. I need a man that will pretend to betray the Nova and join Magnus as a spy. A man that even an outsider would believe capable of betraying and abandoning everything he once held dear for power."

Velderoth slammed a fist against the table, not caring that Edea was his superior or a woman. "I would _never_," he hissed, "betray the Nova for something as – as _trivial_ as that!"

"Power is not trivial," Edea corrected him, her serious and calculating eyes unblinking. "Only the idealistic and the foolish would refuse to acknowledge the importance power can have. And it is not about the good man you truly are – it is all about the image. We have reason to believe that the spies of Magnus still exist within Pantheon, collecting information and biding their time."

"All the priests were -"

Edea interrupted him impatiently. "Magnus may be an arrogant, power-hungry fool ignorant and incapable of anything that requires more thought than swinging his stolen sword around, but that does not change the fact that he still has people on his side. Intelligent people who can predict multiple moves ahead in this game of chess and see the future with accuracy. No, our enemy, be they Magnus or any of his allies, have their agents amongst our ranks and people. We must counter this and have one of our own planted within their forces, but a normal spy will not and cannot do the job. The Nova needs our spy to be a man with a motive and a back story based on the truth."

It was useless trying to reason with this woman. "Where do I come in?" he asked instead, intending to refuse to participate in her plans.

She leaned in closer, and the sharp, tangy scent of sweet herbs grew stronger with her nearer presence. "You will grow bitter. Feeling helpless at just how easily the tyrant defeated you and the two protectors of the Nova, you will be restless in your new crave for power. Having been jealous of your friend ever since he inherited a power that placed him far beyond what your skills could ever reach, you will realize that everything you have is not worth what you could gain should you abandon the Nova and join ranks with the tyrant. You will leave Pantheon and join Magnus, searching for power."

Essentially she wanted him to be a sleazebag. Velderoth's stomach turned – it was a scenario even he could actually believe and take to be the truth, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. "What if I refuse?"

"Then I give you a potion that erases your memory of this meeting and you return to your duties as an ordinary knight loyally fighting for the Nova," Edea shrugged and leaned back, her perfume fading slightly with the distance. "The path of a spy is a hard one that cannot succeed when one is forced onto it. It is a path that will never give any recognition or glory, but one that is filled with thorns and hate. All those that walk down it will lose a precious part of themselves forever for having lied to themselves as they lived their double lives."

This woman wanted to convince him to be a turncoat with that? That was the worst sales pitch he had ever heard in his life.

"But I know you'll take that path, Velderoth."

"How do you know? You don't know me."

Edea looked at him with her cool golden eyes. "I know enough. I know that you are a man who always wants to give everything and more for the sake of the Nova, that you want to protect those you love even at the price of being hated. You've lived by learning how to adapt and survive on your own and that makes it hard for you to trust anyone easily which is why your subconscious denies and disagrees with everything I tell you, even when I have the logic and facts to back my arguments. Right now you feel useless and powerless because of just how easily Magnus the traitor was able to defeat you, Kaiser and Angelic Buster and you wonder if it's because _you_ were the weak link -"

Velderoth didn't want to hear any more of this. "Stop."

Edea did, much to his surprise. Her face was slightly flushed from her rapid analysis and her breath was heavy and unsteady as she tried to regain her lost oxygen.

Velderoth felt naked in front of this woman, the woman who not only knew about his life but could read him as easily as a picture book.

At the same time . . . .

Everything she had said about him had also been correct. Velderoth felt like he had opened his eyes and realized that the sky had been green all along. All that she had seen in him was something he hadn't even known about himself.

"I'm just going to go undercover? Finding information?"

"Yes and no. You won't be an ordinary spy. The moment you 'abandon' the Nova for power you won't have any communication regarding your true mission with us. No one except a select number of individuals will even know that you are truly an agent of the Nova. You will prove to Magnus that you are loyal to him, doing whatever it takes to earn his trust. Anything."

She spoke those words so casually like she wasn't giving him permission to be a criminal for the sake of going undercover but merely stating the fact that Grandis had many moons of various sizes in the sky. The tactician was like a witch of ice, her heart colder and harder than anything in Grandis. "And then what do I do?"

Edea's answer was brutally to the point. "You fight on his side against the Nova."

"What?!"

"Right now, you joining his forces and becoming his henchman will make Magnus arrogant. He will believe that his attacks have shaken the morale of Pantheon up enough to encourage warriors to desert in search of power just like he did and his judgment will be clouded with his vanity. That will be enough to stop his attacks on Pantheon for a while, time bought which will be valuable in our Heliseum front. Your ultimate goal, however, will be to help us track down and pinpoint the majority of Darmoor's forces and find out whether Darmoor has any commanders other than Magnus, as well as his future plans."

Velderoth swallowed – or tried to. His throat and mouth had gone bone dry and try as he might, he couldn't force any saliva to appear. This was a lot of responsibility, and even more danger. If Magnus and his speculated allies ever found out his true alliance they wouldn't hesitate to kill him. Immediate death might even prove to be a blessing in comparison to what they would most likely do to him if the truth ever came out.

But he was a knight of Pantheon, dedicated to protecting the Nova just like the Kaiser was. This was a way of contributing, far more than he ever could as an ordinary knight.

In the end that was all he had ever wanted. To protect something he cared for.

His mind was almost made up. That left just one last but significant matter to clear and settle. "Will Kyle and Tear know? About me being a spy, that is."

Edea shook her head. "I will know, and the higher-ups in the chain of command will be informed eventually about your existence as a reconnaissance agent but if more are made aware of this then I am afraid that the plan may not be safe. For the sake of realistic reactions, you see."

So Kyle and Tear would think that he was a traitor. All of the Nova would think that about him – a power-hungry traitor. Even Fenelle would think badly of him now. The people close to him would be disappointed and heartbroken at his resolve. Maybe they'd be furious and call for his blood, a close relationship soured into hate. Just imagining the likely scenarios made his heart plummet past the bottom of his stomach.

"Keep in mind that I will also pretend that this meeting never happened until it is safe for you to reveal your status. You will be on your own, Velderoth. Like I've said, it's a hard, lonely path, and one that won't ever be fair to you. There's even a chance . . . ."

Edea faltered for the first time in their meeting. She bit her bottom lip, the only other noticeable sign of nervousness, before she continued off where she had stopped. "There's even a chance that you may be killed by soldiers from our army."

Soldiers like Kaiser and Angelic Buster, maybe? The two who had powers and used them to protect the Nova as effectively as he wished he could?

Well, even if they didn't know it, would never know it, _he_ would be the one protecting them now.

Kyle was born into his destiny as the Nova's Protector Warrior. Velderoth would create his own destiny and make his own decisions.

"Like you said, Edea, I survived and adapted."

"Do you accept?" Edea's eyes glowed like golden ambers, fiery hot and intense. "You are aware and fully understand that once you take this path the only way out is victory for the Nova or death? That you will bear the burden and stigma alone?"

By taking this path he was ridding himself of the warrior's code of honour in the eyes of the Nova. Even if he survived he'd most likely be never trusted, the stain of his shadowy actions always remaining a stigma. He would be eternally discriminated and branded as a suspicious individual at the very least. There was also the very good chance that his execution or exile would be demanded.

If he survived it would mean that he had succeeded in his objective and that the Nova would be safe from Magnus and Darmoor.

The answer was obvious, if not clichéd in its martyr-seeking way. He would have gladly given his life as payment for that outcome.

"I do," he answered to all three questions. And Velderoth meant it with all his heart.

* * *

I interpret Edea as someone with everything about her hidden behind a wall . She's had to give up being Guardian, flee Heliseum and be tactician, and she's realized at a young age that in order to win the war they need underhanded tactics and shadowy ways, but she hides every other part of her that she feels won't get respect under an icy front in order to get respect, fear and loyalty.

Inspired by IA/150-P's song Underdog Supremacist and Bombing's 'Beating Cadaver', which you must read. Now.

Originally this was going to be either Velderoth/Tear or Velderoth/Edea for the Unusual Pairings Project . . . . but even for UPP this isn't a pairing. So I'll just write spin-offs for them and keep this one separate.


	2. When I dreamed of a dark hero

"That's a very pretty story you have there," the tyrant smirked at him. "But I don't believe it."

Magnus swung that massive sword of his at his throat and Velderoth didn't even have the time to scream before the blade sliced cleanly through his neck, effectively decapitating him.

His eyes shot open and he nearly bolted upright from his sacrificial alter thing, trying to scream and take in as many breaths of air as he could at the same time. He only began to calm down when he choked and bit on his tongue. He didn't break the skin, but the actual pain served as a good reminder for a reality check.

Just for the sake of reassuring himself, he patted down the area around his throat, checking with the sense of touch in the dim room. The only condensation he felt was sweat, and his heartbeats began to slow down as he reconnected with reality. He wasn't dead. He hadn't gone and gotten his throat slashed or crushed by that nightmarish blade of Magnus's. This wasn't the castle at Heliseum, it was some sort of an in-between dimension crudely set up for some quick magic that was supposed to prepare him.

There was no blood. No metallic rust-salt smell permeating the air. There was only the scent of sweet herbs and a burning candle, sharp and soft perfume intermingling in the small, cold space they were in.

Edea, her face blank, handed him a cup of water. Velderoth swore he heard a massive choir group made up entirely of Angelic Buster sing at the sight of that cup and its contents. Grateful, he took it and downed it quickly, letting the liquid pour over and wash down his parched throat. The water was lukewarm and had a bitter aftertaste, but it made him feel much better.

The tactician took the empty cup back and returned to her original position next to the spymaster, who didn't even bother with a poker face like his counterpart did.

"Dat waz terrible," the fat Nova growled at him. "You waz in dat dream fer only nine minutes. How far didya even get, anyways? Didya even see dat ugly bastard's face? Huh? _Didya_?"

Rubbing his neck to reassure himself that he wasn't going to bleed to death one last time, Velderoth lay back down in the sweat-soaked bed that was more of a solid chunk of marble than anything. "Again," he muttered, too tired to add any politer requests.

The mage creating the spell jerked her head in surprise. "You shouldn't! If you push yourself any further you may end up damaging your psych permanently. Time-compressing magic combined with death in the fantasy world is _extremely_ risky for your mental health, dear, and you're already at the danger stage."

She was really the only outwardly nice person in this room, and Velderoth felt slightly guilty at having to dismiss her warning so casually or stupidly. "I'm sorry," he croaked. "But I need to do this."

He really did. This was the fifth time he was attempting this, and he had only just reached Magnus.

The mage looked like she wanted to protest, but the spymaster struck first. "Damn right he needs ta do dat," he interrupted her before she could speak. "Da boy's barely got any skills as a spy. He'll get himself caught, tortured an' killed in moments if we don't do somethin' ta prepare him."

"He just needs some practice," Edea said quietly from her corner.

"But this is too dangerous!" the sweet faced woman protested, and Velderoth could almost pretend that she was his own mother, worrying about something trivial for him.

"He can do this," Edea insisted. "I know he can."

Velderoth frowned in curiosity at the strange belief the tactician had in him, but he waved it away. She seemed young, too, and she was probably trying to reassure herself as well as him. He had more important things to worry about.

Biting her lip, the mage took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, he's ready, get on wit' it already!"

Velderoth really didn't like the spymaster. He was glad that all he had with him was a crash course accelerated even further than most crash courses teaching him how to hide his true intent. If he had ever been forced to spend even more time to learn about the 'art' of infiltration under that bastard, he would have killed either himself or the spymaster already.

The mage waved her hand, the purple candle next to his head flickered and the next thing he knew, he was running through the forest in between Pantheon and Heliseum. He had only a chest plate on, the sword in his hand was bloody and there were wounds all over his body, ranging from light scratches to deeper gashes not yet near a dangerous level.

Ahead of him, there was a wave of Specters. Beyond that wave, the vast castle of Heliseum stood, towering as a symbol of despair, of tragedy, of something precious the Nova had lost not too long ago.

It also symbolized his reason for running down this crazy path at the top of his speed. His motive.

Velderoth let out a yell and ran head-on into the army of Specters. If they were surprised at his reckless stupidity, it didn't show on their emotionless faces.

* * *

"Here, drink this."

After his fifth time being strapped down in a torture chamber and tenth time being killed in the time-compressed fantasy world created by the mage, Edea handed him some sort of steaming liquid instead of the usual water. It looked . . . colourful.

"What is it?"

The spymaster sniffed the air, a pointless motion from his position across the abandoned stone chamber. "Didya cook dat, Miz Edea? Cuz yer not supposed ta poison da agent."

She scowled at the spymaster, her cold face nearly burning with icy scorn. "I did not!" she snapped indignantly. "It's just a hot drink laced with some potions for smoother recovery."

Velderoth wasn't sure whether one was supposed to mix various potions together, but the hot drink did look good, a welcome change from the lukewarm, bitter water. He took small sips of the surprisingly sweet and fruity liquid, rather reluctant to go back to dying over and over again. He wasn't _actually_ feeling the full effects of the fighting, running, hurting or dying like he did in the dreams once he was out of the fake world, but he _felt_ it while the magic took place and the ghosts of those aches still seemed to linger, making his bones run cold like they'd been dipped in ice water at uneven intervals of time when he was awake.

And speaking of time . . . . "What time is it in the real world?"

The spymaster walked into the portal that led back to Grandis for a few moments before returning. "Nearly dawn. Dat gives us five more sessions, if yer average is anythin' ta go by, bozo."

Gritting his teeth and preparing himself, he laid back down.

"At least let him rest -" the mage began protesting.

"Bloody hell, woman!" the spymaster roared and she flinched. "Dis boy ain't got time fer rest now, has he?!"

"I suppose we could prepare him a bit more and send him to Magnus a few days later," Edea mused aloud, taking his cup once he was done his drink. "We could say that he's been simmering and moping around for a while before thinking that he should join the stronger side."

The spymaster immediately waved her suggestion down in a dismissive manner. "Magnus won't like or trust thinkers too much. He's not gonna trust some smartass who's calculatin' every single detail, he's gonna want a fire-guy with brash decisions, just like himself. Dis kid needs a fiery, spontaneousy decision ta make dat story stick like a slimy booger ta da wall."

Velderoth looked at the mage. "Can we start?" he pleaded, wanting to go back to trying to please the pretend Magnus if it meant not having to watch the possible consequences of Edea's irritation. That glare looked dangerous to be around.

In preparation for his real task, this world was created to be as realistic as possible. There wasn't a script of some sort where every event went exactly in order. The whole thing was spontaneous, the reactions from the people inside different at every time and a new variable was exchanged with an old from the scenes somewhere, somehow.

He was, essentially, living through lives with similar situations over and over again, with similar ends coming over and over again. When he was killed or the torture began, the fake world collapsed.

This time around, he somehow responded to everything exactly right and didn't get tortured or his neck hacked off, which made him feel readier. He almost cheered in relief when Magnus agreed to take him in as his assistant of some sort in return for giving him power and only managed to curb his joy by biting the insides of his cheeks. When that didn't work his tongue was mangled so he wouldn't break his record.

This time, Magnus was on the verge of instructing him how to do his paperwork inside his newly designated office when the world dissolved around him, not in a blackout with bursts of pain like bloody stars in the night sky, but rather in a gentle fade of the images until his vision was all gray and dark shapes sharpening into the details of the real world.

The real world was in a hurry. The mage glanced at him briefly to check his state and extinguished the candle before packing up all of her equipment while the spymaster confirmed that no evidence of their presence was left over.

"Drink this," Edea closed his fingers around a rather fancy-looking glass bottle containing something that resembled white potion. His stomach felt like it was sloshing around and he was a bit sick of fluid now, but he followed her orders and swallowed every last drop of the bitter liquid. "It's time to go."

He rolled off the bed, old habits of jumping to his feet right after waking up kicking in. It turned out to be a bad idea when his right leg buckled at the knee, making him crumple and fall flat on his face. His face burned furiously with embarrassment, feeling even hotter against the cold dusty floor while the spymaster roared in snorting laughter. Edea helped him up, and he was partly glad that the sight of his idiocy hadn't been stupid enough to break her stoic seriousness.

Still chortling obnoxiously, the spymaster handed the mage a black, tarry liquid that looked like poison. Velderoth himself would have never drunken it, especially since the person offering it wasn't exactly someone he would trust with his drinks, but the mage drank it all without a word of resistance or an expression of distaste. Then she fainted into the beefy arms of the spymaster.

"Is she alright?" he croaked, worried that it actually_ was_ poison.

"It's a potion to wipe her memory of all this," Edea told him, beginning to shuffle forward with him still clutching onto her for support. "She'll be fine when she wakes up."

The spymaster threw the mage over his shoulders like she was a sack of food. "Bet ya wish ya could have some o' dat, doncha?" he grunted.

The memories of an army of Specters closing in on him, falling to his death from a cliff or Magnus ordering his torture with a harsh laugh of amusement was still rather vivid in his head. A memory wipe sounded rather good after that.

But Velderoth didn't say anything. Instead, he jerked his chin towards the swirling portal, silently ordering the jerk to get across already.

The spymaster did, going through the portal with one last sneer towards Velderoth, who frowned back, too tired to do anything else. Supported by the tactician, he managed to stagger out the portal leading out of the strange dimension and back into the familiar, welcome area of Pantheon.

"Do you know what the name of the spymaster is?" Edea asked as she helped him take a seat on a rock under a tree nearby.

Velderoth shook his head. She probably knew the answer already – after agreeing to be her undercover agent, she had been the one to introduce him to the two strangers she referred to as 'the mage' and 'the spymaster'.

"Danovah."

He was sure he had misheard her. "The Nova?"

"Da-noh-vah," she pronounced it slowly before spelling it out. "It's a trick he used to use with his students back when the Royal Family was still in Heliseum. When his agents were asked about how they felt about the Nova under the influence of a truth spell, they all said -"

"That they hated 'Danovah'," Velderoth finished, realizing the craftiness of the fat, ugly bastard. Maybe he was a martyr of a sort, pinning hate on him for the sake of a possible interrogation.

She nodded, playing absent-mindedly with a bracelet around her wrist. "The blessings placed on you will prevent any influence of a truth spell from taking place on you," she said. "They won't be able to protect you from feeling the pains of torture, but they've been created with the powers of the three remaining relics, so unless you break or Darmoor himself comes and interrogates you it should hold."

He remembered the fancy light show the mage had pulled on him before going into the fantasy world, as well as the securing feeling the spell had given him. That had really been the only bright part of the nightmarish night he had suffered, pun sort of intended. "I'm kind of hoping it doesn't go that way."

"As we all are."

_We_. To him that word meant Kyle and Tear, his only real family in this world. A family that was supposed to protect each other no matter what.

If he wasn't there, who'd protect his family? He could easily imagine Magnus, sneering down upon him as he tortured his friends. "Can I ask for a favour?"

Edea looked up from her bracelet. "What is it?"

Not for the first time did he wish that Kyle and Tear could know about his motive for this. "Will you make sure that Tear will be safe?"

The tactician didn't even blink. "Your friend? The one born without any magic or a tail?"

"Yeah. Kyle – _Kaiser's_ going to be busy with his duties, and I don't want her being kidnapped by Magnus to be used as some sort of bait. That's going to break Kaiser."

Edea raised her eyebrow. "I was under the impression that the new Kaiser had embraced his duties wholeheartedly."

"Then it'll break me," he replied simply, not bothering to argue for the new Kaiser's humanity and bond to his friends. He knew which arguments he could win quickly and which ones he'd have to work hard on. "If Magnus tries to make me kidnap her I won't be able to, and if I'm not the one ordered to I'll just help her escape when she's brought to Heliseum. My cover will be blown either way and you'll lose your agent."

The tactician seemed to be considering something. "Very well," she said at last. "I'll make sure that your friend Tear is kept under surveillance and protection at all times."

"Thank you."

The dawn's mist was almost completely gone now. His heart felt like it had been dipped in molten stone. It was time.

At least he'd been able to make sure that Tear would be safe.

"I'll be returning to the Heliseum Front now, before they begin to realize that I'm gone," Edea said quietly, slipping him a few more of the potions that were identical to the one he had drunk after the final session. He didn't feel like chugging any more liquid down at the moment, but he was grateful for them. Already from the potion earlier on, strength was returning into his muscles and his sight was getting clearer. These would help him later on.

She began to walk away, leaving him sitting on the rock, but paused. "Thank you," she said, not turning around to face him.

"I'm not doing it for thanks," he called after her to remind the tactician, feeling like a dark hero from tales told around fires, stories that brought hope into his heart as a young boy. A hero who avoided the light and took on all the hate, all the judgements of those he helped. One particular tale had given him the idea of creating the Heliseum Force with his friends back when no price was too great to pay for Heliseum.

Right. Now the force would have to be disbanded. Brute strength would lead nowhere but despair and death.

"I know," was all she said before she continued walking away.

* * *

Filler chapter 1k+ than it should have been.

Please keep in mind – I get almost all my information from KMS. If the dialogue sounds off, well, you know why.

The spymaster and the mage – the Nova had a Royal Family. Okay, since they had their own castle, a council and three guardians, that means they had other things, right? A tactician, a bunch of nobles, elders and extra servants/attendants at the least. So yes, they're OCs.

The dimension thing Velderoth went to train in – Just Edea and the spymaster being cautious and making sure V's somewhat prepared. Since there are supposed to be time-twisted places everywhere around Grandis, they've been sealed for protection. But what if some were only slightly twisted, enough to slow time around but not enough to make a bridge to the Maple World? (total headcanon.)


	3. Grasp your hidden feelings tightly

Kyle – _Kaiser_ – was in the furthest corner of the hideout. Velderoth paused as he entered, but continued on walking when he saw that his friend was too depressed and downtrodden to move at the moment. He took his own seat in a corner and stared at the sky, not bothering to change or fill the silence. Both of them were pretending that they were alone and moping around in the hideout, getting in touch with their inner hippie, pondering about the meaning of life and fancy philosophical stuff like that.

Kaiser had been there during the whole pride-bruising episode where it was proven that Magnus, the Exile, kicked ass even when outnumbered three-to-one. By the Guardian of the Nova, the new rising star with pink but strong powers and a well-trained knight, no less. The reincarnated guardian of the Nova had gotten his ass kicked pretty damn well by the exile as well, placing them in somewhat equal positions at the moment. It was literally only luck in the form of Cartalion's timely arrival that had saved them. Right now Velderoth was sort of okay with him silently slumped in the corner of the hideout opposite to him. It let him pretend that he wasn't going to do what he was planning.

His excuse for inaction expired, however, when a scruffy Tear came racing into the Heliseum Hideout, face tinged with pink from running. "Kyle?" she asked breathlessly. "Velderoth?"

They looked up from their respective moping spots, muttered 'hey' and then went back to moping. _Please_, Velderoth prayed behind his moping face. _Please be your usual self and go check on Kyle first._ Anything to delay the inevitable.

Maybe the Transcendents hated him. Maybe Tear wanted to finish fixing up his issues before moving onto Kyle, who deserved more attention and therapy time as the 'Kaiser-who-got-his-ass-kicked-by-an-exile'. Maybe it was just because he was closer to her physically.

For a reason he didn't care to know why, she came to him first. "Velderoth?"

He shook his head and muttered a few words – he wasn't sure what he said – it could have been anything, ranging from 'kill me now' to 'I'll climb that big tree to become a smelly hermit and live a lonely vegetarian life'. He wasn't even sure if his words had been intelligible. Tear got the basic message, though – _please leave me alone for a while._

She moved onto Kyle while he tried to think of what to say when his delayed turn came. His attempts, though, failed when he noticed the reborn Kaiser's face brightening up at whatever Tear said to him. Both of them would expect things to be better now, be the same as it always was between the three of them. They'd just assume that they'd go back to being the cheerful trio who could never be down long because that was just how they were, and all three of them had grown too used to the idea to even imagine or anticipate anything else.

Maybe leaving without a word would have been a better idea.

Velderoth buried his head in his arms and knees, curling up in his seat like he was a little kid again. "I don't want to have to look at them right now," he croaked to himself.

"What?"

He looked up. Tear was staring down at him, curious worry etched in her face. "Velderoth, are you alright?" she gave him a hesitant smile.

While he was glad that a smile was going to be one of the last things he saw from her . . . .

No, no he wasn't.

"Tear . . ." _come_ _on, Velderoth, be a man. Get it over with quickly. A clean, sure break._ He swallowed, but the lump in his throat wouldn't leave. "Listen," he said, voice strong and steady enough to do the job despite the choking lump he felt lodged in his airway. "The Heliseum Force will be disbanded as of today."

It may have been clean and quick, but it also meant that his break was something she hadn't been expecting. It took a moment for his choked words to sink into her, and then her smile slipped from her face like raindrops dripping off the smooth temple in Pantheon. "What? What do you mean, disbanded?"

Her eyes were filled with a silent plea, begging him to tell her that it was a lie, that it was nothing but a cruel joke that hit too close. As much as he wanted to make her wish come true just like he and Kyle used to do back when they were little, he couldn't. "I'm not willing to waste my time with this nonsense anymore, Tear. We failed, we're not doing any good."

Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to find something to say. He'd miss that about her, the way she fished for words or tried to find the best (idealistic, the cynical part of his brain whispered before getting crushed) way to solve a problem.

Maybe he answered Edea's question too early without thinking enough about his friends and the consequences his actions would have with them. Maybe that was a mistake.

Too late to back out, though. And this way, they'd be able to take down the enemy faster, right? That was a smaller chance of Kaiser dying like all the other Kaisers did, a smaller chance of Pantheon being invaded and definitely a smaller chance of Tear being endangered the sooner this was done and over with.

This wasn't just for Heliseum, the Nova or him playing a bigger part in solving the conflict now. This was about Tear and Kyle too. This was about his family.

At that moment, he knew - he was still going to sacrifice his reputation and forever take on the stigma of a traitor, but now, he was definitely going to come back and make up for everything. Seeing Kyle and Tear's faces had reminded him of something to live for when Magnus's attack had nearly made him forget all those precious to him.

He was going to survive this no matter what and he'd come back, bloody and scratching and very much alive.

"Velderoth, you're the one who convinced us to take back Heliseum!" she finally sputtered out, having found the words she was looking for. "You _made_ us team up in the first place!"

They could have easily been accusatory words, daggers thrown at his heart reminding him of the hypocrite he was. He, who had always preached that the Nova had to fight to their last man to regain Heliseum, wanted to lie and deceive and be a turncoat to get the results they wanted.

But they weren't the accusatory words they could or should have been towards him. Instead, they were hurt reminders of a childhood time so innocent and bright it almost seemed unreal.

He _had_ been the one to suggest the idea, and those had been wonderful childhood times. He'd carry the memories with him to the Tyrant's Castle to keep him company on cold lonely nights when nothing seemed to be worth the effort. That would remind him when the cold stones of Heliseum under his fingers didn't do a good enough job to refresh his memory.

But right now, for the sake of Heliseum and the Nova, he had to destroy the dream he had lovingly painted with his friends back when they were innocent children with only each other to rely on, and he had to do it with his own hands and a hateful face greedy for something like power. "That was a stupid dream for a bunch of stupid kids."

_We _were_ pretty stupid sometimes, but we learned from those experiences – we had fun together, didn't we?_

Tear looked heartbroken, but he pushed himself forward nonetheless. A clean, sure break. Even his own friends had to believe that he was a power-obsessed maniac who was capable of abandoning his race to satisfy his greed. It wouldn't be that hard, right? He himself had believed it when Edea had said it out loud to demonstrate the picture it would paint. The picture his true enemies would see. "Hopeful wishes and blind faith aren't going to win Heliseum back. Wake up! You don't know what it's like out there."

_I'm happy you don't have to ever suffer out there. You'll be safe, Tear, I promise. Don't ever go and risk yourself in battle, alright? Just . . . just stay alive so I can come back and explain and apologize and get you all the pretty rocks you could ever want or need. Just be safe, and smiling._

Her lips were quivering, her eyes were bright with tears being forcibly held back and he was deliberately trying to make her cry. It rubbed against everything he'd been doing for his entire life and he wanted to stop. But he couldn't – it would only be a matter of time before Kyle saw something wrong and interfered. He had to hurry and rub the salt in the wound. "You're not a knight."

_And don't you _ever_ become one, Tear. Don't you _dare_ go and put yourself in danger while I'm not here and Kyle's off being busy Kaiser. _

"You'll never know the responsibility of true power."

_And I've never been more grateful that you don't have any magic. Even if it's cost you a 'normal' childhood and magic, I'm glad you won't have to go and risk your life in battle. I'm glad you can keep smiling innocently, free from the taints of kills and battle._

He plunged on. "It's not a game, Tear. I'm leaving Pantheon, and I'm not coming back."

_No, I'll play both our parts in getting Heliseum back, and then I'll make it up to you somehow, I promise. _

"I'll never reach my goals with you and Kaiser holding me back."

_You two were my life. Thank you._

" I'm . . . sorry, Tear," his own voice cracked and he cursed his lack of control over his voice. His control over his tears was breaking down as well. "It has to be like this."

Damn it, that last part was too close to the truth, and his tears were about to spill. He turned away from her and ran as fast as he could, dashing with only one goal in mind – the border of the Protective Shield. No man's land. Dangerous territory.

Hopefully Tear and Kaiser wouldn't come after him.

Three seconds into his run, he realized what a stupid wish that was. _Of course _they'd come after him – he would have done the same if the situation had been reversed just so he could knock some sense into their heads with a furious barrage of punches to the head (Kyle) or drag them back screaming and kicking (Tear).

"Velderoth!" her voice chased after him, repeating desperately over and over again as he ran weaving through the woods. Would she stop chasing him if he was too close to the edge of the shields?

No, knowing Tear, she'd follow him to the end of the world if she could see which direction he'd gone in. Making a split second decision, he hid behind a boulder and held his breath. A short while after, the pounding of Tear's feet reached his ears. "Velderoth!" she cried worriedly. "_Veldie_!"

Her pet name for him. She hadn't called him that for a long time now, and he'd nearly forgotten about that. Another sweet memory, another reminder for his cause.

He could hear her panting behind the rock, occasionally huffing like she was trying to hold back tears. Gods knew he'd heard her make that sound a million times when they were young. ". . . I can't follow him past the protective shields."

_Good girl, Tear,_ he thought silently, thanking whatever deity that had allowed him this small blessing. She was still keeping her head.

Heavier footsteps made their way nearer as well. "Velderoth, you idiot!" Kyle cursed him from somewhere close to Tear_. I'm counting on you, Kaiser, to not do something stupid enough to endanger Tear. You're all she has right now, and you better keep her smiling in a safe place. _"There's nothing we can do except wait for him to come back."

_That's right, Kyle, take Tear back to Pantheon. It's dangerous around here, even with the protective shields._

_And please, both of you . . . wait for me to come back. I know it's too much to ask for, but I swear I'll make it up to you two._

The sound of footsteps returning to Pantheon was getting lighter until he couldn't hear them anymore. After a while, just when he was sure that both of them had returned and was about to stand up, Tear's voice floated out of nowhere, almost as if she'd known that he was around. Surprised, he stayed down behind the boulder.

"I know Velderoth will come back one day. Let's do our best to make him proud while he's gone."

Something hot and wet ran down his face. His fingers clenched and unclenched several times into tight fists, digging his sharp nails into his palms over and over again until they bled. He had to grit his teeth and hold his breath to prevent the sob from escaping his throat.

If there were any sounds that leaked past his control, it was mercifully covered up by Tear's habit of talking to herself. ". . . I wish I didn't have this bad feeling in my stomach."

She walked away. Right? She was gone, right? Tear was out of hearing range?

He wouldn't get very many chances to cry while undercover in Heliseum, not while in the castle of the tyrant.

Why not cry, for old time's sake?

For the first time in years, for the first time since he'd been made leader of the Heliseum Force, Velderoth let himself cry openly without holding back anything.

* * *

This chapter was (unknowingly) sponsored by Punxatowny of Youtube, who, by posting his Angelic Buster video online, allowed me to get the dialogue between Velderoth and Tear before he left. Thank you.

I'm using the AB storyline perspective because Velderoth in Kaiser's tutorial makes me want to punch him, while Velderoth in AB makes me want to cry because of the touchyness. Sort of. GMS dialogue is so much better in this part. KMS just makes me want to punch Velderoth as well.


	4. It's like a dream

Wiping away the last of the tears from his face, Velderoth climbed to his feet. He was all cried out for now.

_Heliseum, then? _He had only the clothes and light armour on his back, his sword and the potions – courtesy of Edea – in his pocket. If that didn't scream split-decision, he didn't know what did.

_ Yeah, Heliseum._

* * *

Heliseum was big. No, the word 'big' didn't do the city justice. It was grand, huge, giant, enormous, gigantic, massive, gargantuan and every other word he could possibly think of that had the general same meaning.

It was a city of juxtaposition, with white stone shining brightly against the inky dark sky, with tall, sharp-looking buildings and curving bridges, with an air of heavy discipline mixed with silent grace and awe. It was beautiful in a strict, controlled and militaristic way, unlike Pantheon, a city of worship and peace turned into a refugee camp and temporary fortress.

It was like nothing he'd seen before, and yet it all felt so familiar like home.

Kyle and Tear would have loved it.

Unfortunately, the awe he felt at the sight of Heliseum mingled and mixed with the dread. He'd be facing Magnus soon and his stomach was stirring in a very nervous and sick way –

And, there wasn't a single soul within the entire city. At least, none he could see or hear.

When Heliseum had been taken over, the Nova had been driven out. That was what he'd been taught. The unsaid, though, was a large cause of his stomach's swirling. What about those that couldn't be evacuated in time?

The endless army of Specters, the self-destruction of the former Kaiser or the blade of the tyrant traitor. None of them were good choices to die by, and neither gave much wiggle room for anybody left behind.

There was a sound. A small sound, maybe something like a click of a fingernail against a smooth, heavy piece of rock. In a ghost city, even that sound was too loud and out of place.

He spun around to see two Specters staring at him with blank white eyes. His sword was out and in his hand, a force of habit.

They didn't attack – they just stared. Their semi-peaceful stance made him remember just what he was here to do. "I'm not here to fight," he said to them in what was hopefully a non-threatening manner.

"Obviously not, boy," cackled a man's throaty voice very near his ear.

Okay, so he hadn't managed to pick up the source of _that_ sound coming up behind him.

His first instinct was to spin around and confront the source of sound. Years of training had replaced that instinct with another instant but far smarter reaction. Instead of turning his back and leaving his blind spot to face the Specters, he turned quickly in a way that had his back facing the side of the street where a convenient statue of a dragon stood. Now, Velderoth could see both enemies at the same time.

His new enemy didn't look like much – a bizarre redheaded Nova scientist-looking guy with more bald spot than actual hair in a dingy robe – but that eccentric smile creeped him out.

Velderoth raised his blade, just a bit. "Who are you?"

The scientist in the dingy robe bowed slightly – _mockingly_. "No need for violence," he croaked. "I am Treglow."

Something engulfed his hand with what could only be described as a rocky mouth. Both of his hands. Sword and all, all the way up to his wrists. "What the hell?"

The . . ._ things_ were alive, but not by much. They looked more like floating rocks with faces drawn on them than anything, and yet they held on like they'd suddenly become his two hands. Velderoth struggled to try and stab the thing with the sword from the inside, but it didn't budge.

"Now, now," Treglow crooned. "Like I said; no need for violence. You're a guest."

Pantheon didn't have many guests; it was hard to be welcoming to foreigners when there was a protective shield around the city twenty-four seven. Velderoth, however, was pretty sure that restricting their guest's movements and dragging them halfway across an enormous city was not how guests were treated. He voiced his opinion, adding on some creative words to try and hide his fear.

"If you keep struggling and swearing," Treglow told him, "then I'm afraid I'll have to make you an experiment of mine. We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

The redhead looked like he wanted it very much and would have loved it if Velderoth just gave him an excuse. Velderoth shut up.

"Good," he beamed, the spitting image of a psychotic doctor about to cut him up. "Welcome to Heliseum. We have a population of three – four now, including you – Nova and five battalions of Specters, as well as several squads of back-up forces."

At his look of confusion Treglow's smile grew wider. "It's a wonderful city, don't you think?"

* * *

Magnus was deep in thought when Velderoth was escorted (correction: _dragged_) into the citadel. It was a beautiful building, carved and stacked out of the same white polished stone the city was created out of, but it was dark, and all the artistic depictions of the tyrant weren't exactly things that cleansed his mind and refreshed his eyes. They were good art, yes, even a person like him who didn't particularly care for art could see and marvel at their incredible life-like qualities, but the model was the thing he had an issue with. One Magnus in this world was far too many. Hundreds of copies of the original model did not change Grandis for the better, not by a long shot.

When he was 'escorted' closer to the tyrant by the weird stone-life things still firmly gripping his hands, he saw that the dark-haired Nova was doing exactly that: modelling. A floating frame with a piece of beige leather stretched in between was painting on a canvas with a glowing extension of some sort of psychic energy and a brush.

Ah, that explained the hundreds of art pieces depicting the narcissistic tyrant around here.

"Lord Magnus," Treglow said, bowing. The rocks finally spat his hands out and Velderoth rubbed his sore wrists. One of them still had his sword inside of it and he wasn't sure how he was going to get his weapon back _before_ his head was chopped off.

The tyrant simply sat there on a stool and the floating ring with the stretched leather and feathers simply continued painting.

Velderoth looked at Treglow to see if the redhead was insulted at being ignored – by a floating object with psychic hands, no less – but the brainy-looking man had simply taken out a notebook and begun to scribble in it fiercely, the light of a maniac in his bespectacled eyes.

Okay then.

He had two options. One was to remain silent and wait until they got to him. It could take hours, possibly days, depending on the length of time it would take to finish the portrait or end Magnus's patience. There was a possibility that he would be killed for not getting to the point and loitering around like a freeloader.

The other choice was to speak out loud and dare to be noticed. Of course, he could be killed for insolence – for speaking out against turn.

In the hypothetical worlds he'd practiced in, both options had led to his death. _Deaths_.

But in his last try, one of the two options had taken him to being the tyrant's personal secretary, in charge of all the paperwork that came in and went out of Heliseum.

Velderoth took a deep breath. "Lord Magnus," he said, and bowed just as Treglow had done.

The tyrant didn't look at him. He didn't move even his eyes while posing in a thoughtful way.

So he hadn't done anything particularly offensive enough to warrant a torture or execution. Velderoth continued on, slightly encouraged. "I'm here because I want to join you," he said, simple and to the point. "I want to be strong. Like you," he added hastily because a little flattery could go a long way with a narcissist. "I _need_ to be strong. Stronger than Kaiser."

That was pretty much the basics of it all. What else could he say?

Not much. It wasn't a speech that would land him a career in politics, that was for sure, but there was little else he could add without confusing or contradicting himself later. He needed to stick to the basic storyline.

"Strong?" the voice was so quiet Velderoth wasn't sure if he'd actually heard it. "You _need_ to be strong?"

His guide standing behind him shuffled very quickly away from him. Velderoth should have been smart and done just as Treglow did. But the redhead had already ducked behind a sculpture of Magnus and before his brain could actually kick in, the tyrant who had been posing almost harmlessly but seconds ago was already standing in front of him, sword at his throat.

He froze. This was the scenes from his practice sessions come to life. Come to reality, where death actually meant death and not waking up on a stone alter, Edea waiting with a form of liquid for him to drink.

Death meant not going back after all this was over to redeem himself.

A flicker of fear must have gone through his face, because Magnus laughed. "Scared?"

Velderoth clenched his teeth. _Yes_. He _needed_ to go back and make it up to everyone and death was going to get in the way of that. And, okay, the unknown realms of death scared him no matter what those religious freaks said about the wonderful afterlife of heroes.

He was scared of death, of pain, of being tortured and caught as a spy _and_ of leaving Tear and Kaiser to forever wonder about what had happened to him. Or worse, forget him entirely.

Heroes would have considered the latter more fearful. He wasn't a hero, and the former absolutely terrified him.

But there was no going back.

Magnus leaned in. Velderoth could smell his cologne for some reason, sharp and distinct, as he froze at the yellow eyes coming closer to his face. "You should be."

Well, at least he'd reacted properly right before his death. He didn't have his sword, but surely a quick finger or a thumb to the eye could leave the tyrant's sight damaged or blind and give everyone fighting him back home a slight edge in the future –

Magnus removed the sword point from his neck. Velderoth nearly fell over in shock, still vibrating with the coiled-up readiness to spring himself at the tyrant's cruel golden eyes. "Strength, hmm?"

"Uhh . . . ." what the hell was this?

_A chance._

He straightened up. Traitor or not, Magnus was a man who liked control and command. Who would be better trained as an obedient subservient than a former knight of the Nova? "Yes sir."

"Huh," Magnus sat back in his seat and resumed a similar posture to before. "Good choice."

Good choice?

"If you're going to betray your people and your city, do it for a worthy cause," Magnus elaborated. "Not something stupid like eternal youth and beauty or avenging your dead wife. Power – now _that's_ a worthy cause."

Velderoth didn't have a wife, dead or otherwise, and he wasn't too interested in eternal beauty, but he nodded. "Yes sir."

The tyrant turned to him with half-closed eyes. "Of course, that should be the end of your record. If you ever betray _me_, you'll wish that you were dead."

The words were sing-song and Magnus grinned slightly while saying them. It was even more terrifying than when the sword had been at his throat.

He didn't have to pretend fear when he answered. "Of course," he echoed with his suddenly raspy voice.

"Dismissed, then."

* * *

"And this is your new room," Treglow swept the area with his hands. "The Third Guardian of Heliseum's very own sitting room."

Velderoth looked at it with a numb mind. It was dusty, he noticed distractedly. And empty.

Hard to sit in an empty room.

"You'll find the office behind the right door, the bedroom behind the left and the bathroom facilities connected to your sleeping quarters," Treglow continued cheerfully. "There's still stuff left over from the previous guardian, but you'll get time to renovate everything to your heart's content."

This room was around the size of the Heliseum Reclamation Base. Bigger, even.

And it was all his.

Dusty, empty, cold stone . . . .

_Fancy_, like everything in Heliseum. Elegant, he supposed. Grand. Fine. Awesome.

So why wasn't he feeling the joy?

"You'll start your strengthening process tomorrow," Treglow smiled brightly. He looked genuinely happy about everything. Like he was on drugs. "Have a good night."

Velderoth stood in the entry point until the door closed behind him, and then he reached up to pinch his cheek until it stung and throbbed painfully. It still felt like a dream.

The main chamber of the guardian was dusty and in no means suitable for sleep. The bedroom didn't look much better, but it was smaller and a bed with neutral-toned sheets was there. A few shakes got rid of most of the dust from the blankets and pillows, and he left the window open to let the disturbed traces of abandoned years out.

The bed creaked and groaned at the weight it was unused to supporting for a long time, but it held. It was actually a lot more comfortable than the cots they had in Pantheon. Luxuries left behind in haste, maybe? Hard to carry beds when you were fleeing for your life.

He glared at the ceiling.

Oh, screw it all, this wasn't working.

He knew what the cause of that niggling, gut-tightening feeling was. It was him, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

This had been all too easy. Like a fairy tale.

It would be one _weird_ story, something to rival a creation of Tear's when she was bored. How would it go?

_Once upon a time, there were two boys who were friends. One of the boys began to feel frustrated because his friend became better than him. He left home and went to join his people's worst enemy and traitor because by turning traitor to his people he could potentially gain more power than his friend. The traitor accepted him without question after hearing a few words describing his reason for abandoning his people. Happy ending._

Simple enough, sure, but it just wasn't realistic. Was this all an elaborate set-up by Magnus and co. to trick him into relaxing? Would he be taken in the night again, only this time to be tortured and interrogated?

Why was it this easy?


End file.
